What I Did on My Summer Vacation: Part II, The Narrows

[Roll the R’s people, like in Spanish class. It’s the Narrrrrrrows]

Summer vacation at last. Here is my tale of the road trip that almost wasn’t. The threat of flash floods and threats from coworkers about my eminent demise in such flash floods had me scrambling for a Plan B, C, D,…H. Instead of hiking the Narrows we could go to Vegas, LA, San Diego, San Francisco, Catalina Island,…but we kept the faith, endured to the end and were rewarded for our patience (and stupidity).

Day 1: Hurry Up & Wait

We got a late start on the road. The weather in Salt Lake was less than desirable (all the more reason to get the heck outta Dodge). I spent the morning doing laundry and shopping for last minute things that I don’t need.

We arrived in Springdale (the little town next to Zion National Park) a little late and opted to upgrade from a campsite to a hotel room. I know, I’m not a camping purest but it helps that Jesse & Brian were easily swayed for the change of sleeping venue: setting up camp in the dark, unpacking early to catch our morning shuttle v beds, showers, and cable TV. (Hotel wins)

Day 2: The Blind Leading the Blind [hiking not to scale]

6 hours. That is how long it generally takes to reach campsite 6, our ultimate destination for the first round of hiking. Make your guesses now how long it took us…I’m setting the under/over at 8 hours. (hint: it took longer than 8 hours)

The off-road shuttle bus took about 2 hours to get us to the drop spot. After being left in the middle of nowhere we headed down stream (under the assumption that we shouldn’t use the road that had a No Trespassing sign). Armed only with a narrative listing of what we should be seeing, passing, and hiking through with extra help from a visitor center map we played ‘follow the leader’ through boggy marshland. After an hour or so doubt crept into Jesse’s mind and we had to face the reality that we might be headed in the wrong direction. Turns out we should have been on a Jeep trail instead of a stream bed. Pressing forward, in search of an abandoned cabin at mile 3, we were silently elated that the cabin existed. After an impromptu photo shoot we kept a leisurely pace into the canyon and eventually the Narrows. Eventually we had lunch, tested out the water purifier and I managed to drop my camera in the river. Never fear the camera still worked, I couldn’t change the settings and the flash was permanently disabled but it worked. As the sun started to descend in the sky so did our hopes of reaching campsite 6, we hadn’t even seen campsite 1 yet. We picked up the pace and our anxiety quickened proportionately. We played a game of reenacting or quoting memorable scenes from Jurassic Park, I dubbed the game Feed Me a Line. Turns out Brian is an idiot savant when it comes to remembering movie lines. He won and deservedly so.

The shadows in the canyon stretched down on us just as we hit campsite 1. A new river joined us and the rushing water doubled in cubic inches. The nice riverbed rocks morphed into slippery bowling balls and we stayed our course with grumblings from Brian and myself, Jesse decided to start singing (classic coping mechanisms). With each zigzagging of the river we kept a lookout for campsite designations. We contemplated setting up camp at 4 or 5 but, of course, they already were filled with hikers (the first people we had seen all day). With darkness officially surrounding us we broke out the headlamps and flashlights. After 5 minutes of the death march Jesse spotted Campsite 6 up in the brush. We set up camp, hung up our soaked clothes, cooked the best chicken & rice (and worst lasagna ever) & fell fast asleep.

Day 3: 6 Hours Left [Says Who???]

With the newfound knowledge that our pace was well below the “average” hiker we wanted to ensure that we got out of the Narrows before the next sunset. Somehow this knowledge didn’t translate to an early departure. We woke up late and were feeling the brunt of bruised toes and sore knees. We eventually hit the point of having to “go swimming” with our packs (glad they floated). We rested when we needed and screamed every time one would stub their toe. Jesse eventually stopped taking pictures every 10 minutes (his dry bag got scratched and was problematic, hope some of his pictures turn out).

After what seemed to be 100’s of twists and turns through the Narrows we were gradually joined by other hikers headed down stream (a sign that the end was within grasp). I knew we were close when old ladies puffing on cigarettes were hiking with us (PS: who the hell goes to a National Park and lights up cancer sticks?!). After reaching the trail terminus and posing for our “After” photo we tackled the paved path to the shuttle. This short path turned out to be about 2 miles long and felt like it might never end. The shuttle got us back to the visitor’s center just in time to hike to the city shuttle stop (this hike was never going to end!). When we got to the hotel/outfitter stop I was the last one to grab my stuff and complete my own version of the walk of shame through the bus; tired, smelly, mentally exhausted, and afraid of falling down the shuttle steps from fatigue. To my surprise, I looked down and there was my boss with his family boarding the shuttle as the headed to dinner.

Yes people, I went on vacation and my boss happened to find me 100’s of miles away from the office in a desert canyon town. But wait…we also ran into each other at dinner and discovered they were 4 doors down from us at the hotel we were checking into. I couldn’t script stuff like this!

Day 4: Curtain Call

With a good night sleep and aching bodies we all opted to hide out at the hotel all day. Angels Landing can wait for another trip; I couldn’t hike up steps let alone a hike that is rated as Stair Master difficult (according to the brochure). We borrowed some DVDs from the front desk and watched HBO only leaving for meals. This day was the dream of slackers everywhere. The curtains were drawn and daylight was barely seen.

We eventually traveled back into the park for an easy hike up to see the sunset. My vertigo kicked in a bit when looking over the edge of the cliff. Brian got a little too close to the edge, Jesse wasn't too happy, I waited for one of the unattended kids to run off the edge in defiance to their parents. All-in-all, a great day.

Day 5: Class .5 Rapids

After packing up and hitting the Spotted Dog for a breakfast buffet we headed back to the Zion Adventure Company outfitters for inner-tube rentals. For $15 we spent our last 2 hours in town drifting down the river. The water was cold, the rapids were mild, and the laughter was in great supply. We kept ending up in the vegetation on the banks and accosted by stray three branches. When we weren’t getting stuck on rocks and sand bars we were linked 3-abreast headed down what really was nothing more than an over glorified stream. After we passed under the 2nd bridge we hoofed it up to the road and waited for the shuttle. We looked like misguided hitch hikers that preferred to suntan on inner-tubes than walk another step. I love us. With a quick stop at Oscar’s on the way out of town we munched some lunch and hit the road back to the other Zion: SLC. Brian was a trooper and drove the entire way home. Jesse napped and I enjoyed the masterfully selected playlist (Craig Armstrong was just right for the drive through desolate Utah, aka Middle Earth). A few hundred miles later we were back home and trying to figure out how to wear work shoes with busted feet and pulled quads.

Vacation is awesome. True Story.

What I did this Summer (take 1)

Sure, the retelling of "what I did this summer" usually happens when you get back from vacation and stand in front of your elementary school class. A bag of sand, a few seashells and a postcard "wishing you were here" all splayed in front of oohing and ahhing classmates. A silent tension, everyone vying for who did the coolest things while away from the confines of the classroom is a highlight of the fall term.

I figure if I wait until September I will forget the best (mis)adventures of the summer so here we go with round one. Memorial Day weekend officially kicks off all things summer. Somehow growing up we always ended up leaving California and coming to Park City, Yellowstone, or the national parks in and around Utah. Now that I live here I want to return to California but since Hunter is up from Houston (& I just went to CA) we stuck it out close to home for Memorial Day weekend. Here is what I learned over these fine 3 days of summer vacation:

-Bonfires can potentially be ruined by friends inviting friends of friends and having said individuals consists of tools, posers, sheltered bubble children, and those that want their lives to be as “exciting as the Hills.” How could I forget, there are also those kids that still communicate exclusively through insider mission stories (WTF?!). In this situation one must use patience as a weapon of choice and wait out the needy, they will find shiny objects elsewhere.

-Enjoyment of particular bonfires can be maintained by ignoring passive aggressive people that feel entitled to attention and act out like spoiled children when they don’t get what they want. Bonus points to the whack job that couldn't stay behind with a swine flu cough and camped out at a nearby picnic table coughing for all the sympathetic ears. This sickly individual sure could gobble a charred brawt when it came time to eat though, she had a magic gullet.

-Events that are spontaneously planned should still be planned enough to include a destination and communication to the socially infirm (see friends of friends of friends) so they can make it to the mountainous destination without having to run red lights in a game of vehicular follow-the-leader.

-It’s OK to expose posers for what they are. Especially when the dinks can’t even talk the talk to begin with. Example: whitebread, flatbrim hat wearing Utah rappers that barely have fireside cred let alone street cred (Yo, yo dawg. Next time leave TightyWhitey & Crew off the guest list).

-Trips to Park City for the Alpine Coaster/Slide can be derailed by surprise guest appearances by girlfriends of friends of friends that exhibit unjustified demands and socially aggressive behavior. Good thing this one was kept in check from the click of her 3-point seat belt. Too bad the nagging could be heard throughout the stillness of the Aspen trees at PCMR. Auditory deflection can be used to block out sniveling tantrums, some people are as transparent as scotch tape (Caution: it's OK to put baby in the corner in this situation).

-When there is a possibility of defaulting to a bad dining destination one must fight passive aggressive behavior with matter-of-fact statements like: “no” and “we shouldn’t waste our money there.”

-Shopping with great people can make the outlets fun, if not completely entertaining.

-Doing expensive things with cheap people can be trying at times (especially when expensive starts at the "anything over $10 level). Red Rock Brewery trumps the Baja Cantina at PCMR any day of the week, suck it up and pay the extra $5.

Lessons all worth learning, I just wish they weren't so "trial and error" while Hunter is in town from Houston. Next time the pesky people come swarming I will pack my repellant. Deet works on people too ya know.

Calling all personal shoppers – I need new board shorts!

Summer is almost here. Technically, May 15th is the end of the semester for my corner of the world aka law school…then it’s summer. In honor of the end of classes and newly silenced hallways I ditched out on work early today (a legit half-day) for a selfish errand. These types of selfish errands are something I really need to do more often, the “Me” in tiMe management has gotten lost in the past year.

I have issued an Amber Alert on new board shorts. Has any one seen a great pair of sartorial sweetness out there? You see, every year I make it a personal quest to pick up some gnarly new shorts, yea even like unto the level of rad.

Just as Monty Python produced a well-rounded group to search for the Holy Grail (& an opportunity to use the Holy Hand Grenade) so must I. In an effort to find the new addition(s) to my summer wardrobe I enlist my friends (& strangers) to one-up each other in finding me my new favorite board shorts. If you are out and about and see a pair of sweetness (size 31 or 32) take a picture, note the price and send it my way.

The ’09 season is already in full swing people. Keep and eye out and your camera phone at the ready. If you submit a winner I just might treat you to dinner (sun, surf, and sand subject to availability).

*The shorts posted here are examples of what won last year (translation: low probability of a repeat taking the prize again this year)

Franz Ferdinand

The spring/summer concerts have begun and Franz Ferdinand was the right way to start things off.

With a little arm twisting and emailing I got Brian to join me for aural extravaganza. The Smith's made it too, stalwarts at front row center seating.

The venue was perfect, the Avalon Theater is not too small, very personal. The fans made for prime people watching, so many huggers, so many freakishly tall people. The music was rad and the guys set a new standard for encores - it was a mini-show with instrumental props. When the band performed a drum solo (together, you had to be there) it reached Legen...wait for it...Dairy status.

Here are a few picks for those that missed out:

The Crowd

Group Drum "Solo"

Live Remix of a few tracks

Sonic Cranberry Limeade, perfect for post-concert dehydration

Karma is a Beach

After my last post (sent from the car wash) I had to take a break – seems the universe repaid me for sharing my opinion and judgment. I will not go into detail but the penalty for mocking someone in the car wash came with a hefty price. I am too embarrassed to even post the few photos of what the rest of the day entailed. For those that I trust I will (or already have shared) the 4 photos of shame. So far only Kate has betrayed my trust and shared it with an entire table at the Tepanyaki Japanese Grill in Lehi.

Silver lining: I learned that if I didn’t own a Honda things may have turned out for the worse

Another karmic example would be the hilarity of dog sitting and my misguided attempt to let a chocolate lab act as the steam locomotive that could pull me on my longboard. I promise, I do have three college degrees and a marginal understanding of physics. As with all great disasters, it seemed like a good idea at the time. [How could this be any different from being towed on skis behind a snowmobile up a ski slope? Really?]

Things were fine until my center of gravity and the velocity of the dog were compromised by the unexpected variable known to the layman as ducks. Yes, I abandoned ship as the gallop turned into the “seek and destroy” velocity of a guided missile. My K-9 ward, sweet and affable, experienced a demonic possession by the spirit of that laughing dog from Nintendo’s Duck Hunt. Off towards the grass and ganders the dog leapt. I released the leash while having a flashback to an A-Team episode where Hannibal gave sage advice to Ace: roll when you hit the ground. This mental interstitial quickly gave way to a choice four-letter expression that was socially allowable for the circumstances. My struggle to stay upright translated into a vaudeville characterization that was more Scooby-Doo than controlled. In a battle that was lost within seconds, I opted for a face-to-face greeting with the slimy grass of Sugar House park. The freshly melted and exposed grass made for a well-greased slide that accommodated my graceful quasi-cart wheeled belly flop.

While slopping the mud off of my knees I thought about how stupid I must look. Ego and embarrassment almost took hold until I had to answer to a dog that was hell-bent on doing at least one lap around the park. I couldn’t disappoint the dog so with leash in hand and mud in my eye we kept on chugging (longboard in hand, not under foot). After one lap I stowed the board and we made another round and the mud eventually flaked off. One more opportunity to laugh at myself.

The universe had many lessons to teach this past week. As always, I made the ideal pupil and obviously obliged. In any event I had a great time dog sitting, longboarding, getting a free mud scrub, and generally making a spectacle of myself in public. True Story.

For kicks here is a quickie to make up for my recent silence:
Last weekend also included a visit to Joe’s Crab Shack – I give it two enthusiastic thumbs down. Even with low expectations that place can’t pass muster. The only saving grace would be the company that you surround yourself with (two thumbs up + a Macarena dance).

Matt’s Dining Tip #428b: Make sure that you don’t ask for lemon with your fish at Joe’s Crab Trap. Why, why would you not want to ask for lemon with your fish?! Well, since you are asking I will tell you. For some reason this request equates to asking your waitress to turn into a sneering, neglectful, nasty Cracken. Never, I repeat, NEVER ask for lemons and (whatever level comes above never) ask for more lemons. And if you are going to leave a 10% gratuity you better be able to haul ass outta there.